Life In A Glass House
by loveophelia
Summary: As Taichi introduces Sora to the whirlwind of romance and popularity, her best friend Yamato finds that his feelings for her aren't as platonic as he had originally thought. Sorato.Taiora
1. kelly green

**CHAPTER ONE** _kelly green_

A figure lay still on his bed, his lower body wrapped in a dark blue sheet, his head lying face down in his pillow. Distant shouting, occasional music from passing cars, moonlight, and the noise of nighttime life filtered dully into his room through navy blue curtains and a half-closed window.

"Wake up, wake up, time to wake up!" the annoying chime of a plastic alarm clock made its presence known. It took the form of a black and white cat with enormous eyes that moved left to right. Its left ear was chipped, the side poorly taped in its place with scotch tape, and one of the eyes didn't move.

It was five minutes before he registered his surroundings, and a disgruntled groan and a lazy whack of his alarm clock and he thought of it no more. The plastic cat flew a few feet away and landed with a clunk as it hit the door and parts of its arm shattered into pieces.

He stirred, and he shifted his face, and the sight of his belongings strewn messily in his room came into view. Large chocolate brown eyes opened and closed, and disappeared once again against the worn fabric of his pillow.

There was silence, again.

xxx

"Where were you today?"

He was leaning against the stove, placing a spoon down on the countertop and wiping his hands on a frilly pink apron she had gotten for him last Christmas as a joke. She sat on top of the meal table; legs folded Indian-style on the wooden surface, her violet crimson eyes watching the otherwise broody blonde cook dinner. (She would've helped, but she was rather a disaster in the kitchen.)

"I went on a field trip with my History class. Maybe if you'd listen to me once in awhile you'd know that," she replied.

He rolled his eyes. "Yea, ok," he retorted. "I'm just happy I wasn't seen with you in that hat." He nodded at the white and lavender knitted beanie with the burgundy felt flower sitting lopsided on her head.

Her semi-amused expression turned to one of exaggerated curiosity, and she leaned in, cupping her hand around her ear. "I'm sorry;_ who's _wearing the pink apron right now?" she asked.

He reached over and pushed the soft material down over her eyes.

"How was it?" he asked.

"Boring," she replied, readjusting her cap. "Embarrassing…I tripped over someone's foot halfway into the tour and almost knocked down one of the displays." She sighed and her shoulders dropped. "Luckily, I swerved away just in time to stumble over my own two feet and break my fall with my face. Possibly one of the most humiliating moments of my life," she said sadly.

He stared. "You know people associate me with you."

She glared at him, clearly annoyed.

He made a funny face and shot her a grin.

"_Remind_ me why I'm friends with you again?"

"Because you're secretly and hopelessly in love with me?" he supplied.

She looked at him in half-disgust, half-disbelief. "You are _so _full of it!"

"It's part of my charm," he responded.

She faked a wretch.

"You, my friend, are utterly hopeless," she said with a fake sympathetic air. "How _did _you manage to cope without me today? I hope you didn't get too suicidal."

He shrugged. "Don't worry, I didn't."

She let out a quiet, skeptical "hmph!" and shook her head as if to herself but dramatic enough for him to notice. He playfully pushed her shoulder.

"And you say _I'm _full of it," he muttered. "Nothing, really. Ate lunch, hung out in the music room."

She raised an eyebrow. "By yourself?"

His expression deadened. "Yes, Sora, by myself." He rolled his eyes. "Na, I hung out with the band."

The sound of the door opening saved them from further conversation. A tall, middle-aged man entered the small apartment. His tie had been loosened, the silk material tugged down beneath an opened collar, and he held his brown jacket over his shoulder as he took his shoes off in the foyer.

"Hey, Mr. Ishida!" she greeted cheerfully.

He smiled at the sight of her. "Evening, Sora. How are you?"

She nodded. "I'm good. And you?"

"I've been better," he said, and he surveyed his surroundings. "But I'll live. Are you joining us for dinner tonight?"

Her demeanor changed quickly and she shook her head. "You know I would love to, Ishida-sama, but I can't. Can you imagine poor oka-san sitting at home eating dinner alone? Not while I'm still around." Her eyes wandered to the clock. "I should probably get going," she said, and she hopped off the dinner table.

"You want me to walk you home?" Yamato asked.

She pinched the fabric of his sleeve and gave it a small tug. "Hurry up, Blondie."

"Are you serious? Because you know I was just being polite."

He was instantly rewarded by a hard push as she shoved passed him into the foyer.

Yamato half-smiled at her and rubbed his arm. "Be back in ten minutes, Otou-san," he said to his dad, throwing his apron on the kitchen table. He seized his coat from the hanger while he put on his shoes.

"Could you _be_ any slower?" she asked. She grabbed his hand and opened the door. "Goodbye Ishida-sama!" she yelled.

"Goodbye, Sora!" he replied from the kitchen.

She yanked her blonde companion out the exit, who hopped out on one foot, still tugging on the black tongue of his Chucks.

xxx

He sleepily searched around for his cellphone somewhere near his bed and upon finding it, flipped it open and squinted at the harsh blue light. 8:45pm. He stretched.

His chocolate brown eyes caught the site of something black and white, and they quickly wandered to the broken alarm clock next to his door. A sigh escaped his lips. He really had to stop doing that.

He walked up to pick up the broken pieces and tossed on the light switch as he did so. The lamp on his desk turned on, and a soft light filled the room.

The clock was unfixable. After months of accidentally being slammed into desks and doors and the hardwood floor every morning, it had finally been destroyed beyond repair. He threw it into his trashcan and began the search for his Algebra textbook. There was an upcoming test he had to study for.

He felt like a nerd. Since when was studying something he did? His eyes flickered over to the crumpled papers in the waste bin, one in particular with a large red "F" peaking out under the wrecked plastic of what used to be his alarm clock.

Oh yeah, since that.

He shoved it in deeper into the wastebasket with his foot. If he didn't get his priorities straight soon, he was going to get kicked off the soccer team, and as reminders go, that wasn't a very pleasant one.

The red textbook was found wedged beneath two binders and his History book, and he tugged it loose and set it on his desk. They lay messily in front of him.

Red. He liked Red. His shoes were red. Once, in preschool, he cheated on a test because he couldn't remember what the color red looked like. But then he remembered.

…

Algebra. Right. Study.

He opened the book and began to skim the contents. His chin dropped on the open book, and he read the text with minimum interest between half-closed eyelids.

He hated math; he hated school.

His attention had begun to wander again. There was a kelly green picture frame next to his computer hidden behind a stack of papers. Curiosity got the better of him, and he pushed it aside. His hand froze over the photo.

It was a collage of sorts. Cut out pictures pasted together on construction paper and slipped into a frame. Sora had made it for him when they were twelve. There were pictures of her making funny faces at the camera, him with his arm around her, and a couple with them and Yamato.

He pulled his hand away slowly and just stared. Stared at the photo, stared at the people, stared at his childhood, and suddenly he didn't know what he felt. Exhaustion, jadedness…nostalgia?

He hadn't talked to them in awhile. He hadn't talked to them in years. High school did that to you sometimes.

He put the frame face down.

A breeze carried in through his window, and his hands automatically rubbed his arms against the chill. He leaned over to the glass pane to shut it and was surprised to see his childhood friends walking below him, talking and laughing and playfully hitting each other at some lame joke one of them had said.

The irony of it all made his lips curved into a bitter smile in spite of himself, and suddenly he felt sick. He felt a small twinge of resentment and rage and something like hatred.

He turned away from his window.

His Algebra book stared back at him.

Algebra.

Right.

Study.

xxx

The sky was dark and glittering with tiny diamonds that faded above the city lights. Streetlamps flooded the sidewalks with an orange glow, all along the streets in a perfect line.

"I got something for you." She reached into her coat pocket and produced a handmade bracelet made with colorful tacky beads in different shades of blue.

"Souvenir?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Na. I was babysitting the other day and one of the girls had this bead kit." She held another one similar to the other. "See? I have one too."

"Sweet." He held it in his hand, intertwining it in his fingers. He liked that she remembered his favorite color was blue.

"We still on for that horribly dubbed American movie on Friday night?" she asked.

He looked up, mechanically slipping the cheap jewelry into his pocket. "I'm looking forward to it, actually."

"Awesome. You can pick me up at seven."

They reached an old gray apartment building, and their pace slowed at the entrance. Swiftly she spun on her heel, flicking her wrist at him. "I'm done with you. You can go now."

He pushed the hat down over her eyes again. "See you later, Sor."

His redheaded companion stood on her toes and blew him embellished kisses as he walked back in the direction they came from.

"Miss you already, Blondie!" she yelled.

He shook his head.

She was crazy.

He smiled.

He loved that she was crazy.

xxx

**A/N:** Loosely based around the plot/characters of the show One Tree Hill. The show sucks, but I'm somewhat basing my storyline off of it so I have to give them some credit. Reviews make the world go round. I don't own anything and my Japanese is rusty so forgive the bad grammar and such.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything.


	2. guardedly

**CHAPTER TWO** _guardedly_

"Your mom hates me."

The wind was blowing, a cool shallow breeze that made the hems of their jackets flutter and their hair to softly twirl around their head. The sky was muted and blue-gray, the morning sun just barely peaking out from a cluster of thick white clouds. Cold moisture hung in the air and clung uncomfortably to their skin.

They both shivered and tucked their hands inside their pockets, hunching their shoulders to try and block the chill from breathing down their necks. It would get warmer later, they knew, though it never felt like it in the morning.

Sora's mother never took a liking to Yamato. But despite the woman's unpleasant disposition towards him, he never failed to be polite. (Polite, almost to the point of sarcasm, noted Sora, but not quite, he always countered, though it was sorely tempting.)

Her mother, in return, never failed to ignore his existence completely. Sometimes she would compliment him coldly with a subtly veiled insult; he didn't know which yet was worse.

"You're just unlikable," she said calmly.

Sora would reach up and ruffle up his hair, or tease him on his choice of apparel in an attempt to cheer him. It never really worked. Recently she had resorted to pushing him out the door before her mother could reach him, but she seldom succeeded; she was always late.

He shook his head as if hurt and put his hand over his heart. "That hurt, Sora. Right here."

"And he can act, too!" She punched him in the arm.

"She doesn't like me hanging out with boys so much."

"Boys, in which case you mean me."

She shrugged. "Pretty much, yea."

He pushed her away from him.

His scowl soon turned into an involuntary smile, however, because she grinned and tackled him into a hug from the side.

xxx

"_Taichi, I'm tired."_

"_You want me to carry your bag?" _

"_No, it's fine."_

"_Are you sure?" _

"_Yea."_

xxx

Taichi sat on one of the rickety, colorful table-benches scattered across the school quad. A group of his friends stood around him, discussing sports, and girls, and maybe something about a party a classmate was throwing that weekend. He wasn't too sure; he wasn't paying attention.

He subconsciously looked passed one of the cheerleaders standing in front of him and his chocolate brown eyes caught the sight of two very familiar figures walking by. His gaze rooted to the spot he had seen them even after they had disappeared from his line of vision, his sight blurring and the voices around him turning into a murky buzz.

"You ok, Tai?" Mimi. Honey brown eyes, long brown hair.

But Taichi wasn't listening. He was pensive, his eyes glazing in a faraway gaze, staring into space.

"…Tai?"

He snapped out of his reverie. "Huh?…Oh, hey Mimi."

A look of irritation flickered on her face.

"You ok?"

He looked down and tiredly nodded his head. "Yea, yea, I'm fine. Listen, Mimi, I have to go." He edged off the table and began to back away. "See you at lunch, yea?"

She watched with a curious expression as he disappeared into the crowd.

xxx

"_It's getting dark. We haven't been out this late before."_

"_Do you know where we are?"_

"_No…you scared, Sora?"_

"_Of course not."_

"…_Me neither." _

xxx

Taichi slowly walked down the empty hallway. It was 3:46 in the afternoon now, and he had just completed a particularly boring session of detention. Books clutched at his side, and his free hand stuffed into his pocket, he trudged down the sunlit corridor and towards the front door.

A few steps and around the corner, he stopped short as he noticed a lone figure searching through her locker. Short auburn hair, slim frame; he knew her.

He stood still, wondering if he should approach her. The afternoon sunshine streamed through the windows, and he could see the dust particles dancing in a patch of light behind her.

She was always a pretty girl, he mused. But the light and the empty surroundings gave her a soft, ethereal kind of prettiness that made her look blithe and too innocent to touch. He guessed she had gone home and come back, for in lieu of the school's monotonous school uniforms, she wore a charcoal pleated miniskirt and a black pullover.

She slowly pulled out a dark green textbook and moved to shut the metal door closed with her free hand, peering thoughtfully into the open storeroom to make sure she gathered everything she needed. He walked up to her then, lightly touching her arm to get her attention, and just as quickly, she spun, her hand flying to hit him in the head with her calculus book.

Chocolate brown eyes widened in shock, and he leaned back just in time, seizing her wrist with one hand and quickly unarming her with the other. "Freaking ay, Sora!" his own books slammed onto the floor.

The noise died down; violet crimson stared into chocolate brown and he felt her relax under his grip. Her relief suddenly turned into cautious curiosity, and he felt her stiffen.

"A bit jumpy, don't you think?" he asked lightly. He released his hold.

She shrugged guardedly, clumsily, keeping her eyes on his face. "What can I say; reflexes and instincts and all that."

He allowed a careful smirk. "You always attack people with books?"

Her eyes were still on him. "Not just anyone."

"I should feel special, then."

…

"What do you want, Taichi?" she asked. She didn't say it bitterly, or sadly, or angrily, even. It was quiet and casual, but to the point.

He didn't avoid her gaze. His eyes were softhearted and maybe sad, and she couldn't help staring at them, at the sunshine melting into pools of gold and chocolate brown.

He shrugged his shoulders and looked away from her face, focusing his attention elsewhere. "What are you doing here?"

She watched him intently, warily, her hands nervously balling into fists at her sides. She was aware he hadn't answered her question, aware that he didn't really know.

"I…forgot my calculus book."

The corner of his lips turned into a tired half-smile in a way that made him look childishly endearing. "Yea? I just had detention." He turned and leaned against the locker doors, his head tilting back and resting on the metal surface. "Apparently I was talking, which is stupid, because I slept through the whole class today. The bastard." He shook his head.

There was a thin, airy silence.

"…How are you?" he asked.

She nodded her head, looking down at the ground. "I'm doing good, actually."

A hesitant beat.

"And you?"

"Same here."

His head dropped, and he distractedly kicked at the floor with the toe of his sneaker. "I just…I just wanted to see how you were doing, I guess."

The front doors opened tentatively and their heads turned to glance at the newcomer. A tall blonde male stood in the entrance, one hand on the door and the other inside the pocket of his blazer. His blue eyes flickered between the two figures in the hallway. The yellow sunlight spilled into the corridor, and Taichi squinted to recognize him.

Sora looked away. She already knew who it was.

"I have to go, Taichi," she said softly.

His attention quickly snapped back to her face. "Of course. Um…I'll see you around?"

Something flashed in her eyes – curiosity, distrust, sarcasm, and wondering if he could possibly be serious. "Yea," she turned to leave. "I'll see you around."

She walked slowly, uneasily, and when she reached the door her head turned a fraction of an inch to the side and her hands briefly held onto the edge. She quickly looked away and pushed her blonde companion out with her.

The door eerily clicked shut behind them, and he was left staring blankly at the closed entrance. The silence deafened, and he suddenly felt fidgety. His eyes wandered down the hallway, at the ceiling, at the opposing wall of lockers. And in spite of himself, thoughts and reflections of what had just happened pieced through his mind – bits of conversation, the shallow awkwardness and the suggestion of a familiar ease replaying in his head.

He swerved to lean back against the row of lockers.

Just what was he doing?

His line of vision fell to the floor. The books he had previously dropped lay haphazardly at his feet, half-opened and upside down with papers he had carelessly stuck in there scattered around him.

It was then that he noticed with some surprise that he was still holding on to her calculus book.

xxx

"_I'm getting kind've hungry."_

"_Me too. We should bring sandwiches next time."_

"_I guess I should've thought this through." _

"_Na. It's ok."_

"…_Hey, Sora? Thanks for coming with me." _

"_You're welcome."_

"…_Let's go home."_

…

"_Ok…Taichi? You're my best friend."_

"_You're my best friend too." _

…

"_Don't worry, Tai. Next time we run away from home, we'll bring sandwiches."_

xxx

**A/N:** Thank you for your patience. This will still ultimately be a YamatoxSora, but there will be some TaichixSora, if you couldn't already tell. This is only the beginning.

-loveophelia


	3. after all

**CHAPTER THREE **_after all_

The dusty quiet of dusk crept up on them, the bright light of afternoon fading into an orange-pink and blue sky. They reached the intersection leaving the school grounds, his shoulder almost touching the wired fence as he passed the tennis courts. They paused at the stop sign to look both ways before continuing their journey home.

"He was acting funny," she said.

"Doesn't he always?"

Leaves gently crunched under her shoes as she walked on the gray strip of cement separating the street from the sidewalk. She made the extra effort of stepping completely and gingerly on every dry leaf until it cracked into untouched pieces in her wake.

"You think he's dying, Yama?"

He shrugged, looking uninterested.

"Not that I've heard of," he replied.

The swooping sound of passing cars engulfed them and she felt the wind threatening to take her with it.

"…Are we still studying at your house?"

He stiffened and he suppressed the urge to sigh.

"Now you're just being silly, Sora."

"I am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Of course we're still studying at my house."

They could feel the jaded tension between them, the faint sadness and the curious hesitancy, tugging kindly at their heartstrings and whispering softly in their hair. It was wispy and quiet, just barely there, but it was uncomfortable and unfamiliar, and it gently took hold of them, taking their arms and leading them into a place unknown.

"…Yamato?"

"Yea?"

"We're good, right?"

He smiled tiredly, his features softening. "We're good."

He reached out his arm, wrapping it around her neck and bringing her close.

xxx

He looked up from where he sat with his group of friends, a smile on his face. It slowly faded as his eyes reached hers.

"I would like my calculus book back, please."

She was staring at him unabashedly, as if he was the only person there. She looked bored, maybe, but not mean.

He was mildly surprised.

"Careful with the attitude, doll. Can we help you?" Cool and collected, with a hint of hostility.

He turned around and saw Mimi, her arms loosely crossed over her chest, leaning against the desk behind him. An amused smile played on her glossed lips and her honey-brown eyes twinkled with merriment. She was trying to stick up for him, he supposed.

"You can mind your own business, thanks," was the reply.

Silly Mimi. The pink smile turned into an angry line.

Sora's bangs slid down from where it was clipped to the sides and covered her right eye. She casually tucked it behind her ear, and the sleeve of her blue cardigan slid behind her wrist to reveal a colorful bracelet of tacky beads.

Her hand fell back down to her side, and if she was bored before, she wasn't bored now. She was mean.

"My book, Taichi. Are you deaf or just stupid?"

Somewhere next to him, one of his friends raised his brow and leaned back in his seat. "Me-ow!"

He wouldn't say anything. His eyes bore into hers, just staring – sadly, maybe. Pleading.

He saw her strange violet crimson eyes and her short auburn hair, and the girls around them, his friends, with their makeup and flowery perfume; long locks of brown and blonde hair he knew made them wake up hours before dawn to painstakingly curl into perfect waves.

And Sora stood in the middle of it all, small and fiery and girl-next door, with her lips daubed with cherry lip balm bought from a local drug store and her flyaway hair falling in front of her face.

He stood up slowly, walking up to her, pausing slightly and tilting his head in her direction as he passed by, never breaking eye contact; an indication for her to follow. A sideways glance and she was contemplating her next move.

He wished he could tell what she was thinking; he wished he could see it. And didn't he already? After all, hadn't they been best friends?

He turned around, and she was gone.

xxx

He saw her again right before lunch ended. She was at the library, sitting next to the window with the dim sunlight pouring over the desk through the dusty glass. She sat Indian-style on the wooden chair, a book placed on her lap and a pencil tucked behind her ear. There was a highlighter between her teeth, books and papers spread on the small table in front of her, and she wore a pair of black-framed glasses he had never seen her wear before.

He walked behind her, gently sliding a dark green calculus book onto the wooden surface over her shoulder.

She sighed, taking the highlighter out of her mouth, closing her eyes.

"I'm sorry," he had said, and he walked around the table, sitting down in the seat across from her.

She was tired, she had work to do, and she was blunt.

"Go away, Taichi."

He looked down at the table, fiddling with a pen she had been using earlier. Her crimson violet eyes clouded in tired confusion as she watched it slip through his fingers, lightly hitting the table, then being twirled back with swift agility. She reached over and patiently took it from his hands, and his eyebrows knitted together in concentration at the chill of her touch.

"Your hands are cold."

She shrugged carelessly, subconsciously bringing them closer to her body, away from him. "They always are."

He reached out to hold her hands in his and winced inwardly as she flinched further away from his feel. Her bangs fell over her eyes again, and a dark shadow fell over her face.

"You doing anything tonight?" he asked suddenly.

She looked up in surprise.

"It's Friday."

"So it is."

She was quiet.

"Come on, Sora."

He shook her sleeve.

She gently pulled away.

"Contrary to your beliefs, Taichi, I have a life."

He smiled awkwardly. "Well, put it on hold."

"For you."

"For me."

She sighed and ran her hand through her hair, auburn locks spilling through her fingers, because his answer was enough and she wished he had said something different.

"No."

He raised an eyebrow. "No?" he asked.

Silence.

"Ok." He didn't know why he felt so disappointed. It wasn't like he really meant it.

"Sorry."

He tried to shrug it off and forced a smile on his face. "No, it's fine. Maybe next time?"

There was hope in his voice, strangled, sad, disheartened.

The bell rang, and she was saved from having to answer.

He concentrated his stare somewhere on the wooden table, and he heard the books and papers being swept up into her bag, the screechy sound of her chair being pushed back, and he couldn't bring himself to watch her walk away.

xxx

She wrapped her scarf around her neck as they exited the theater, making their way down the familiar street and towards her house. The movie had been somewhat satisfying, a shallow, typical chick flick, and they had spent most of the night creating their own dialogue between mouthfuls of popcorn and soda and occasional glares from the people seated around them.

"Did you get your book back?" he asked.

"Yea. Taichi gave it back to me at lunch."

There was a rigid, confused pause in his step.

"…I thought you were doing your homework at lunch."

"I was. He came into the library a couple minutes before it ended."

…

"Oh. That's good."

Silence; a nagging silence; pressing down on them on every side.

"So how was your day?"

Casual, normal; the easy way out.

Yamato feigned indifference. "It was fine." He didn't care. "You have to stop ditching us at lunch, though. The fellas are beginning to miss you."

She latched onto his arm and rested her chin on his shoulder, pulling him down so he had to lean down a little. "I miss you too, Yama, darling."

He rolled his eyes and shrugged her off, and she shot him a cute, toothy grin, her eyes dancing with mischief.

Sora released her hold on his arm, the pleasant smile slowly vanishing as they continued to walk down the street. She forced the mood to change, allowing the stillness to take over. It passed over them like a sheer, dark shade, and they shifted restlessly under its foreign touch.

"…You want to know something funny, Matt?"

She was fidgeting with the button of her coat now, stalling for time, stalling to swallow her nerves.

He nudged her shoulder with his in encouragement.

"Taichi wanted to hang out tonight." She shrugged and cast her eyes on the floor. "I told him no."

His guard immediately went up; blue eyes darkened; his jaw clenched.

"Well I'm sorry I put a damper on your social life, Sora." The bitterness seeped out of his tone in spite of his efforts to conceal it.

"…What?"

"Don't let me hinder you. If you would rather go hang out with Taichi, you're more than welcome to."

"…More than welcome to, am I?"

He stayed silent.

"Screw you, Matt."

He looked at her now, and she wouldn't meet his gaze. There was a stiff coldness in her posture, an angry confidence on her countenance, and he recognized mad Sora when he saw her.

"Sora…"

"Just…forget it, Matt." She still wouldn't look at him. "I never should've told you anyway."

He shyly nudged her shoulder with his again. She promptly shrugged it off. Then he did it again, and he was met with the same reaction.

His hand sheepishly slipped over hers, holding it gently as she half-heartedly tried to wriggle her fingers out of his grasp. And finally she looked at him. He was staring down at his shoes, one hand in his pocket, the other hesitantly around hers with a tender uncertainty and hope. Asking.

She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him briefly, tightly. It was gone and forgotten just as quickly as it had come.

They stood in front of each other, looking at the ground, wondering where to go next. The change crawled in between them, swirling in the gap, and they could say nothing, do nothing.

Her hand reached out; quietly, aimlessly. He held it in his.

xxx

"_You know, Tai's really not that bad." She tucked a lock of red hair behind her ear. _

_He didn't want to ask, didn't want to know, but he knew he had to. "How long you have you known him?" _

_She frowned, and she stared intently ahead of her. "I don't know, really. Since forever, it seems."_

_He pondered her response for a while. _

"_Forever is a long time, Sora."_

_The sun was setting behind the horizon, a bright orange glow in the midst of a rapidly darkening sky. The wind blew, sweeping their hair back, and when she spoke, it was detached and unintentional, scarcely above a whisper. _

"_Yea. It is." _

xxx

**A/N:** I was asked in a review why the chapter titles are so random. _Kelly green_ was the color of the picture frame Sora gave Taichi when they were twelve, and in it was a collage of pictures of them when they were children. I found it appropriate because I thought it referred to where it all started; the beginning, if you will, and it parallels agreeably seeing as though it's the name of the first chapter, where this story begins. _Guardedly_ is something I feel sums up the mood of chapter two. The words _after all_ were used when Taichi underestimated Sora's reaction. "_And didn't he already? __**After all**__, hadn't they been best friends?_" This is where everything changes, and I thought the words and the occasion symbolized it nicely. The titlesare also words used in their respective chapters.

Of course, some of the coming titles will be random just for the sake of random. Truth be told, I don't put too much thought into these things and I could've just been talking out of my ass. Take it as you will.

I have an erratic system of writing and have bits and pieces written for the coming chapters. It's only a matter of filling in the gaps and putting them in order. So far, I have chapters four and six in a mess of notes on my computer. That is, if I do this right. I also have the general gist of events lined up and hopefully this fic won't surpass ten chapters. Eight, if I'm lucky. We'll see.

Oh yea. For those who are wondering, my old fics are all gone. There will also be no TaichixMimi in this story in any romantic sense. I just want to stick to the canon characters as much as possible. On that note, for those who care, it was Daisuke who commented on Sora's cattiness.

I thank you all again for you patience. You guys are awesome.

-loveophelia


	4. close

**CHAPTER FOUR** _close_

There was a click and blur of movement, and Sora appeared on the screen; a grin lighting up her face as she stepped back from the computer.

"Your web cam works, Yama. Bad news is it makes you look kinda fat."

A pillow hit the back of her head and fell on the floor.

Yamato sat behind her on his bed, leaning against the wall, watching her sort through the various music stored on his hardrive. Sora glared at him suspiciously before swiveling back around.

Suddenly, she let out squeal of excitement and pushed back her seat, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the desk as the intro to "Mint Car" blared through the speakers.

Sora leaned up against him, singing into a pen she found on his desk, and he quickly changed into rock star mode, banging his head to the music, letting his hair swing in his face. Halfway through the song he grinned and tackled her, both friends disappearing from view as they tumbled onto the floor laughing.

They reappeared on the screen, bright-eyed and out of breath. Sora scrambled to her feet. "I'm going to look for something to eat. You want anything?"

He shook his head in response and she left the room.

"You got anything edible in here?" her distant voice was followed by the open and shutting of cabinet doors.

"Check the…top right cupboard. I think my dad bought some girl-scout cookies the other day." He tilted his chair back and waited for her response.

She returned a few minutes later munching on a cookie, holding the box in her hand as she threw herself on the bed. "Hey, Matt. Tell everyone what happened to you at band practice today."

He rolled his eyes. "You're so immature, Sora."

"Tell them."

He looked straight into the camera with a bored, sarcastic expression on his face. "I broke a guitar string on Taka's acoustic."

"Which one, Yama-chan?"

"The G-string."

Sora fell into a fit of giggles. Yamato was not impressed.

"Come on, Matt. It was funny." She seated herself on the extra chair next to him and stared seriously at the camera. "So Yamato breaks Taka guitar's string, and Taka asks if anyone has an extra. G-string, yaknow? And what does Yamato say?"

He crossed his arms and buried his face.

"He doesn't realize what he's saying and says he has one at home." She shook her head in a mock-pity fashion. "The boys won't let him forget it."

Yamato turned up the speakers. She laughed.

"It was funny!"

He pushed her away from him.

"So Matt. Tell us a little about yourself."

"What?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes and reached over to lower the volume again. "Tell us about yourself." Fake serious; exaggerated attention.

He gathered his best fake pensive expression. "Well, Sora. I'm the lead vocalist and back-up bassist of a band called The Teen-Age Wolves. My parents are divorced, and I see my little brother Takeru less than I want to."

"And what's that like?"

"It makes for beautiful angst. Truly."

"That's a horrible thing to say."

"Yea, well."

"Anything else you want the world to know?"

"My best friend is a redhead and the biggest spaz I know."

"Oh, sweetheart. You only tease the ones you love."

He ruffled up her hair.

"Hey, Matt?"

"Yea?"

"You ever wonder where we would be if we weren't friends?"

He thought about it for a while. "We would be miserable."

They glanced at each other at the same time.

"You're such a good friend, that if we were on a sinking ship and there was only one life jacket left…I'd miss you loads and think of you often."

Silence.

"What the hell?"

Sora hugged him.

xxx

Taichi didn't have any classes with Yamato, but he had one with Sora. They had English together, and they sat in opposite sides of the room.

He didn't attempt to approach her again, but once or twice, his eyes flickered towards her in the front of the room. Once or twice, when she was staring concentrated on a test; once or twice, when she was gathering her things at the end of the class.

And once or twice, she glanced back. Once or twice.

At lunch she ate with Yamato and a group of boys, and other than some acquaintances on the tennis team, she didn't have many friends that were girls. Some things hadn't changed, and Taichi felt strangely comforted.

And that was it.

It didn't matter, though. They ran in different crowds, enjoyed different things. It wasn't like they were friends.

Nevertheless, he was still surprised when she came to detention that day.

He had been talking to his friends when she had made her appearance, and when she did he did a slight double take. She stood uncomfortably in the doorway, pulling at the strap of her messenger bag. Her eyes automatically searched for a familiar face, and she froze when her eyes met his.

He stared at her, curious, confused, and he subconsciously sat straighter in his seat, his eyes following her as she accommodated herself in the second closest chair to the door; a few places right and ahead of him. She proceeded to take her books and papers out, refused to look at him, refused to look back, and wasn't she just the model of excellence.

The teacher scheduled to watch them that day entered, and silence commenced.

xxx

Yamato didn't do much after school. Sometimes he plucked at his guitar, scribbled a few notes, held band practice.

Sometimes he tutored.

He wasn't sure when, but somewhere between writing songs and hanging out with his friends, he was reluctantly pulled into a peer-to-peer student-tutoring program his district set up after school a couple years back, and every other Tuesday and Thursday he volunteered his time to aid students in their studies. (Particularly in math and physics, but he wasn't too bad in history and English, either.)

He didn't feel like going that day, but Taka had basketball practice and Sora had detention, and she made him promise to be there the second it ended to enthrall him with her gruesome experience of her confinement. Something along those lines, anyway. Besides, he liked walking home with her.

The tutoring center was relatively busy, but he was one of the few still available. He didn't mind so much. He wasn't very social anyway, and he liked time to himself. He had been listening to his ipod, doodling on his paper when the princess of Odaiba High entered.

Her white blouse was pulled a little too tight across her chest and her skirt rolled up just a little too high above her knees. She shifted her weight onto one foot and the skirt rose a little higher. Her eyes quickly scanned the room, picking her prospects. They landed on him and she was pleasantly surprised.

"Hey."

He looked up, a little shocked, a little curious, taking in her appearance. "Hey."

She slid into the seat next to him, easily and casually, and she brought with her confidence and charm and floral perfume.

"I'm Mimi." How unnecessary.

"Yamato."

She had seen him around school a number of times. He was cute; it was hard not to notice, but she didn't have any classes with him, had no excuse to approach him. She found this a very nice coincidence.

"Are you any good in Algebra?" she asked.

"I'm not bad."

She smiled at him and pulled out her binder.

xxx

Sora had detention. What a badass.

She wondered if being a badass was always this boring.

Her eyes wandered to the clock; 2:45. She had finished all of her homework a while ago, and she was counting the minutes until her liberation.

Liberation. She amused herself.

The bright afternoon sun peeked through the branches of a sakura tree planted outside and blinked at her through the window from the other side of the room. She watched the stray pink petals scattering with the wind, floating in twisted circles, around, around.

Her crimson violet eyes glanced back and caught a glimpse of Taichi. He was sleeping; his head buried in the crook of his arms. He didn't care. Nobody cared here. Detention was apathy, lack of energy, dull boredom, staring at the wall and trying to stay painfully quiet amidst the awkward silence.

She hated being a badass.

Sora looked back out the window.

When Taichi shifted his position and allowed a look in her direction, she didn't notice.

xxx

Yamato was cute, but he was all business. He didn't respond to her flirting, didn't respond to her charm. She would say something funny, delightful, and sometimes he would smile sheepishly, look down. He didn't flirt back.

She found it mildly irritating.

She found it mildly attractive.

Mimi watched him explaining the complicated world of math with maddening ease, his baritone voice just loud enough for her to hear. Her book was open between them, and he was pointing at an obscure problem as he spoke.

Her eyes glanced over his features; his golden blonde hair, piercing cold, cold eyes, paper-thin lips.

"Are you gay, Yamato?" she asked.

He paused his elucidations and glanced up at her, confused. "No."

She tilted her head to one side and stared at him as if she was pondering something serious. "Just checking." Mimi sat upright again, crossing her arms in front of her, leaning in. Her brown hair fell over one eye.

"You know, you can laugh once in a while. Flirt."

He continued to stare at her, his piercing cold, cold eyes.

She wondered if his eyes were always this intense. Always this serious. "Don't you think I'm pretty?"

Yamato raised an eyebrow.

Mimi smiled; all sweet amusement. "Well, don't you?"

He looked down at the pen he was fiddling with in his hand, twisting it around his slender fingers. "It doesn't matter what I think." And when he looked back up at her, his gaze was forward, unafraid, edged with a tired laziness.

She studied him then, staring back at cold blue with honey brown orbs. She didn't know what it was; the slight surprise, the momentary dissatisfaction with his response…but it hit her like a slap from reality, the tingling sting lingering on her self-conscious.

"You're strange, Yamato," she finally concluded.

The pen twirled between his fingers; the tip landed on the beginning of a paragraph of her open book. "Simplifying radicals aren't that bad. You just need to learn how to apply the theorem."

Yamato was cute, but he was all business.

xxx

Sora slowly walked down the vacant hallway, the pads of her fingertips gently sliding against the smooth locker doors. She carefully put one foot in front of the other, watching her navy blue tennis shoes walk in a straight line. She had excused herself to use the restroom a moment ago, and she was in no hurry to get back.

Her crimson violet eyes glanced out the large glass windows, and she squinted at the sunlight staring back at her. She liked moments like this – the afternoon, the empty corridors, where everything was delicate and ghostly and calm. She stared back down at her shoes, one step in front of the other.

She heard the sounds of life outside, and she looked back out the window. They were having soccer practice out in the field, and Sora walked up to the casement and stopped to watch. The Odaiba school colors were green and blue, and they all wore kelly green jerseys and navy blue shorts and white block letters proudly announced their surnames on the backs, an even bigger white number. They raced down the field, the black and white ball rolling through the fresh green grass.

She remembered those days, when she used to play soccer, when she used to be good, dribbling the ball between her feet, back and forth, back and forth, back, kick, GOAL! She remembered when they used to run around the playground, play hide and go seek, wrap a quilt around their necks and pretend they could fly.

And she remembered when she used to sneak out in the middle of the night to play soccer with Taichi because his younger sister was sick again, playing for hours until he kicked the ball too hard and he collapsed on the damp, green grass and she quietly sat next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. She remembered sneaking into his house at one in the morning because her parents were fighting, her father's harsh shouting, her mother's angry hissing, Taichi's arm next to hers. No crying, no words, just darkness, only each other. No one else.

But that was a long time ago; far away, distant, wispy and blurry, and when she blinked and she blinked, it faded and smeared and disappeared.

She softly blew on the window until a damp ellipse formed on the glass, and she carefully wrote her name with her finger. Her crimson violet eyes studied her work, and then she walked down the hallway, slightly leaning against the locker doors, running her hand along the metal surface again.

She didn't miss it. She didn't resent it. It was a long time ago.

Sora reached the detention room just as Taichi was going out. They stared at each other, unsure; crimson violet, chocolate brown. He smelled like cologne, and grass, and outdoors.

"Excuse me," she ducked her head and walked inside.

xxx

When detention was over, Sora quickly grabbed her things and hurried out the door.

Taichi followed a few feet afterwards, his books held on one side, his free hand rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. His companions trailed behind him, suggesting video games at Daisuke's house, and Taichi was vaguely listening. His chocolate brown eyes caught something red at the end of the hallway, and he watched the familiar retreating form with an indistinct gaze that was all emotion and heedless and nothing at all.

She turned left in the direction of the tutoring center, and she was gradually aware of footsteps in the otherwise empty corridor additional to her own.

"Sora,"

She turned around automatically, surprised when she recognized the person jogging towards her.

He paused, her soft stare stopping him at mid-step. "So, uh…detention, huh?" he asked.

"…Yea."

An awkward half-smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Well aren't you a regular troublemaker."

She glanced at her feet, looked back up. She nodded and politely smiled back.

"Something like that."

He pushed a bit more.

"Caught making out behind the bleachers, right?"

Her smile turned a little more genuine in spite of herself, and Taichi grinned.

"I knew it."

And then the tired, sympathetic smile was on her face again. "…Of course you did, Tai."

He wished he knew why he kept doing this. Why she kept doing this. He had known her once, he had known her well, and now he didn't know her at all.

His eyes glanced downwards and he lightly kicked at the floor. He wanted to say something; he wanted to ask why, and he could feel all the mess of tempers melting into a shy, honest air.

"Sora, I don't hate you."

Sora didn't respond, but he noticed her tugging at the hem of her cardigan.

When she finally did, she didn't look at him, and her voice was quiet and weak.

"I don't hate you either, Tai."

xxx

The sun's rays filtered in through the large glass windows, and they walked in a slow, collective pace. The janitor was mopping up the floor on the other side, listening to his handheld walkman full-blast as he worked. The muffled sound of music sifted through the air.

Yamato walked beside her with his messenger bag hanging on one side, his guitar case strapped over his shoulder. He carried himself with a quiet, comfortable ease, all content and mystery and detached. He responded out of courtesy, lacking detail and any glimmer of real sentiment, and Mimi found her friendly chatter lost on him.

"Are you always so serious, Yamato?"

He shrugged.

"Sometimes. Most of the time," he replied truthfully.

Mimi laughed at his unashamed candidness. "It's not a crime to have fun, you know."

"I have fun."

"Yea? And what's your definition of fun?"

He shrugged again, not looking at her. "Being with the people I love."

She watched him, her brown eyes gazing at him in curious, amused wonder, and she found her lips curving into a slow smile.

They reached the end of the corridor and they turned right to their destination. He paused, then, but she didn't notice.

"There's a party at Daisuke's beach house after the game tomorrow night. You should come."

He was staring straight ahead, his gaze hard.

Realizing that his attention was elsewhere, Mimi curiously looked between him and what he was staring at. Two figures stood a safe distance away from each other in the middle of the hallway.

There was something there – an awkward tension, some sort of unsaid conflict reopening silent, invisible wounds.

Mimi opened her mouth. "Hey, Tai, can you give me a ride home?"

The two figures quickly glanced up, surprised at the interruption.

Taichi looked back at Sora, an unreadable expression on his face. Sora looked away, didn't meet his gaze. She bit her bottom lip and gently fingered the plastic bracelet on her wrist.

He stared down in understanding, and then turned back to Mimi. A weary smile touched his lips and his eyes were tired. "Sure, Mimi." Taichi tried one more glance at Sora, staring at her as they passed. His arm brushed against hers, and he thought he saw her flinch. She still wouldn't look at him.

"Thanks," said Mimi.

Sora's eyes closed as an imperceptible sigh escaped his lips, and Taichi and Mimi walked away, neither saying a word.

Their footsteps eventually faded, and now she had Yamato. Quiet, beautiful, collected Yamato, and the nights when they went to the park, sitting on the wooden table-benches; calm as night as he played his harmonica; when she didn't want to go home, and he didn't ask. Now she had Yamato, and his intense blue eyes, and his tight hugs that let her cry when she thought she couldn't. Now she had Yamato, and banging heads to music, and annoying people at movie theaters with their giggling and bantering. Serious Yamato, that was only mischievous and cute and delightful with her.

And when she blinked and she blinked, it was still there, staring back at her, clear; free; close.

The quiet was thick and overwhelming, weighing down their skin, and they both waited…waited...

She thought she saw it flicker, waver, and she wanted to cry.

"Matt…"

He looked down, and she stopped. She watched as he licked his lips; look back up at her. He moved one side of his body, asking her to come closer, and they walked home together in silence.

xxx

**A/N:** This story is anything but organized, and I apologize for the confusion. Some of it is on purpose, most of it is not. I have made a few revisions to the earlier chapters. Nothing big, really, but I would appreciate it if you take the time to skim it through.

Mimi originally had a bigger part in this chapter; in this story, in fact, but after much painful deliberation I decided to limit her role. I would love to delve into her character more, but I know it isn't of much interest in a YamatoxSoraxTaichi centered fic, so I will try to refrain. Forgive me if I don't. I also changed the color of her hair because…it was annoying.

I hope Yamato doesn't sound like he has split personalities. He's a serious kid most of the time, and Sora is the only one able to bring a lighter, playful side of him. Even so, his teasing is a bit mean and awkward, if you hadn't noticed. Like in grade school when boys have crushes on girls, they push them and pull their hair.

And because someone asked, Sora and Yamato are just best friends. For now, anyway. And I use "Matt" as a nickname rather then making a mistake between the Japanese version and the dub, like "Tai" for Taichi.

I'm afraid none of my old stories will be making an appearance soon. I was feeling rather frustrated and in need of a clean slate when I deleted them and I didn't save them before I did. I'm sorry to those who enjoyed them.

Thank you so much for your understanding and patience.

-loveophelia


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